It’s not really quite winter, of course.
It’s not even all that cold.
But the sun is edging toward the horizon
In what feels like it ought to be mid-afternoon.
The trees are stark and skeletal along the river and over-flow ponds
A well packed new trail now winds through the woods,
Where the paved one, once again, tumbled off into the river in the rush of the early spring floods.
Rambling ... 